Journal Entry Excerpts, Writing

Here Comes Your Man

It’s raining and I’m working. I am so uncool. Please remind me to do this to him as soon as I see him. I haven’t seen him for weeks and it’s driving me insane. Okay, overreacting.

For the first week, my coping mechanism was to slack off. Sleep early. On the second week, I shifted 180 degrees. I worked my ass off.

I had my Midterms exams in Financial Accounting earlier. Balanced everything. So I am quite confident. The next class was Management. For like 6 hours. And they begged our professor not to have a short quiz. Geez. It’s just a quiz, not a hurricane. Stop panicking. I wanted to know his style at least before the Midterms, but thanks to my classmates, we didn’t have the chance. It’s Midterms two weeks from now. No classes next week. Holiday.

Anyway, I have to woooork my ass off to complete 26 more wedding articles before the month ends. Help me, creative fairy godmother. Shower me with the patience to overcome it and to write effortlessly as possible.

And I am working tomorrow. On a Sunday. Again, I am so uncool.

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Journal Entry Excerpts, Writing

Turtle Net Connection, Minus You

Thank God, WordPress loaded. The turtle net connection, on top of you being not here by my side, is breaking my heart. On the contrary, not having you around boosts up my writer persona (I always write better when I’m agonizing.); and that must be a good thing. But then again, the slow internet connection kills my creativity so it’s just a tie. Victory has just eluded me.

As a renewed person who isn’t broken anymore, I have to channel my loneliness into productive things like work my ass off online, which is a little impossible now given my internet connection. So, I May just have to go fix myself and hang out in Starbucks instead with my two next bffs (after you of course) — my laptop and cellphone.

I thought I could work there. And I have to bring these two bags of our donation to Yolanda victims. I do hope they have some donation center.

Sigh.

My day simply sucks without you, especially now that I know that you’re hurting and you’re away from me. =(

 

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Journal Entry Excerpts, Writing

Dead Butterflies in My Stomach

I woke up today to a bad news. When I heard my boyfriend sob over the phone, I knew what was wrong. The man has died. His father. Curse cancer cells. But, that’s just his way of saying goodbye to life. Hard. Frustrating. Torturous. And pretty expensive. No one deserves that, but He knows why such things happen.

I kind of knew this day would come. And I know he did too. Tito was a strong man until the second set of chemotherapy. I mean, he can still travel for long hours. He can still walk around the city. He can still do his job at home (he’s a baranggay captain). He still communicates with his sons. He joins in the celebrations — the 1st birthday of her first granddaughter. I didn’t really see him get weak and bedridden.

I was aloof of talking to him on our first few encounters, but as the encounters slowly frequented, he began talking to me. He would ask me to come eat. He would say goodbye whenever we would part ways. He would tell me to eat some siopao while my boyfriend was roaming around the mall with his uncle while we (his dad, sister-in-law and the 4 cute kids) wait for them. I did ate one siopao. I thought and hoped that I could have another dad in him (yeah, I know, I am assuming we’re not yet married) even though I know his situation. I kind of missed my dad. He died too ten years ago, a few weeks after I turned 16 and a few days I became a member of the Youth for Christ.

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I called in sick just to be with my boyfriend today. I felt sick inside. I wouldn’t want him to be alone because being alone with lonely thoughts would drive people mad. And I don’t want a mad boyfriend. I mentally reminded myself not to ask him if he’s okay because I know that he’s not. Losing one parent is hard. Losing two is not just doubly hard. It’s like you lost your home to a typhoon. His mother died when he was sixteen too.

He has to go home to his hometown so I accompanied him to the bus terminal, but he ended up dropping me in a mall where he would take another bus because it’s already running late and I need at least 2-3 hours to go back to my apartment.

Hours back when we were still riding the first bus that we need to take, a woman, in her late 20s suddenly got up and talked about God’s word. I used to feel uncomfortable around them, but now I salute the courage and the willingness that they have just to spread God’s love. As if on cue, she talked about death. Like how we all have one life to live and that we need to see the urgency of the realization that we need to do things that would bring us closer to our Lord. It was sort of comforting and I kind of peeked on my boyfriend if he was listening, but I saw him closing his eyes. He was sleeping. When the talk ended, the lady gave out envelopes for donations to their mission. Our eyes met and I began to pull out my wallet, but he said he had some money on his pocket. My boyfriend and I usually ignore these things, but on that envelope, we actually placed something inside.

Now, he’s on the way back to his hometown and I have no idea until when he’ll be there. The idea of being away from him on his lowest moments just kind of sucked. Now, if only I was only purely working online, I could have accompanied him right then and there. But, I have work. And my Saturday classes would kind of get in the way too. But, I’ll be there with him next week. Or next next week. The days should move out fast. 😦

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Journal Entry Excerpts, Writing

A Silly Thing to Try

He was hatching monsters on our iPad. We pretend those tiny monsters were our kids. I was reading a blurb of the biography of the man who made lists, checking if it was a potential read.

We were positioned in bed, lying on opposite directions, our heads on the same y-axis point. When I turn to my left I can see his face upside down. Then I started talking to him about this silly thing that I found fascinating ever since I was a child when somebody lies the on the opposite direction as I do.

I would talk to that person and focused on his or her lips. In that perspective, the lower lip become the upper lip and the lower lip became the upper lip. Pretend that the two lips switched position and let the person talk. It is weirdly funny. I told him to think that way and watch me talk and we burst out laughing. It’s like the person you’re talking to has his lower jaw moved forward and upper jaw pushed back.

We started talking like that and then we kissed.

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for Magpie Tales, Prose Poetry, Writing

A House Party on June

Stanley Kubrick for Look Magazine, 1949

I still remembered that one fateful June night.

Raindrops pouring, you and me under my umbrella.

Tagging along the sidewalks, skipping over water puddles,

making our way to this local bar that we made our weekend nights getaway station.

 

I still remembered that instant connection we had.

Holding each other hands as if we have done that naturally in the past,

the outright kissing in front of our friends,

the right-then-and-there confession in your room, on your bed.

 

I still remembered the night outs that followed the first,

the solo slow dancing in the middle of the dancefloor,

the scent of your skin and the softness of your palms,

and the lines that formed on the sides of your eyes when you laugh.

 

I still remembered the mornings after,

you lying next to me, reeking of alcohol and perfume.

Oh how sweet it is to just lie and sleep by your side

after going home, tired of dancing at 3 AM.

 

I still remembered the spark that we had

when we’re still living in that spark we have.

And for all that you’ve done for me,

I would even be the one to light up your cigarette for you.

 

**Written for The Magpie Tales

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